Tales from the Chronicles of Amago Hideki
by SDWilson
Summary: The honorable Amago Hideki journeys through Golarion searching for clues to the mystery of his past, a past that will lead him to a confrontation with an ancient evil that is subtly resurfacing to bring ruin upon the world.
1. Chapter 1 Northern Sojourn scene 1

Croot once again looked over his newly found companions as he left the unnamed grog-house with them and they stepped into the narrow alleyways of Riddleport, the City of Cyphers. Jenner led the way. He was a tall, lanky man and a halting speaker who seemed a bit awkward but was deceptively quick with a knife. Joffo followed along quickly behind him. He was a Shoanti tribesman who had left his kinfolk long ago and taken up the manners of the locals. Joffo was strong and fast and mean, but very superstitious. Few cared to cross him. Bender was directly in front of Croot. He was both thick as a barrel and strong as an ox, but was considerably older than the others. Croot imagined he gained his name from bending the anatomy of people who offended him into awkward positions. Croot himself was a young man of mixed heritage. He was mostly indistinguishable from the masses with both a medium height and build as well as brown hair and dark eyes. Croot brought up the rear where he could watch his companions and preferred it that way. The group did not speak as they walked past the warehouses and shanty houses littering the wharf district.

Riddleport had many oil lamps placed along its streets to give light in the dark but without being regularly filled with oil to burn, they served as little more than decoration where Jenner was leading them. He stopped at the end of an alleyway between two warehouses. Light from one of the rare lit lamps illuminated the street just beyond the alley's entrance. "Here," Jenner said flatly and walked back past his companions a little away from the entrance.

There were a couple small recesses in the warehouse wall opposite Jenner and a large broken crate beside him. The light at the end would give them notice of any unlucky pigeon taking a short-cut and the darkness would give them a means to conceal themselves. This spot in the alley made for a nice murder box. Croot smiled. After failing miserably to convince the Tian merchant to allow them to escort him north to Karlsgard, Jenner had suggested he knew a place to wait for a pigeon or two and the rest was history.

Croot picked the large broken crate next to where Jenner was standing. The air reeked particularly strongly of urine and vomit as he stepped toward the crate and he knew that his chosen spot had very recently been made use of by some drunkard. He ignored the smell and whatever other bodily fluids he was stepping into, convincing himself that it was a good sign and this was a prime spot for an easy mark. He crouched behind the crate and into the darkness while drawing his dirk, then glanced impatiently toward the light on his left. A pigeon would fly by soon and he would be ready. Bender and Joffo none too quietly took their places in the shadows against the narrow alley's opposing wall. Jenner leaned against the same wall as the other two, but a little farther from the entrance and proceeded to pick at a bone of some sort with his long knife. They had drawn straws and it was Jenner's unenviable position of distracting their mark. Bender and Joffo would step out to intimidate the pigeon into surrendering his goods. Croot would wait to give the little birdie a kiss in the ribs if it gave them any trouble instead of paying up and flying away. He took a deep breath and waited as his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him.

Soon, a tall figure stepped into the light at the entrance and turned into the alley.

Croot quickly scanned the individual while it remained in the light. A curved sword in a wooden scabbard rested upon the figure's left hip, with its left hand gripping the scabbard's throat, and a bandolier strung across its chest fastened with a large brass buckle on its right side. Although a broad rimmed helmet hid the figure's ears, the general features were still visible. The small tusks protruding from the figure's mouth coupled with the greenish hue to its skin left no doubt this was a half-orc and Croot hated the half-breeds. _This pigeon will not fly away tonight,_ he promised himself while trying to hold in his anger.

Jenner stepped away from the wall and in front of the half-breed who immediately stopped. "I believe you best hand'ver all yer stuff, real quick like," he said nervously. A master orator Jenner was not.

"I see," came a deep voice from the half-breed. "I believe you best move along." The half-breed rocked on the balls of his feet with his knees slightly bent, squarely facing Jenner. Croot grimaced, realizing that when the sound of its voice had drawn his attention to the half-breed's face, its free right hand had deftly taken hold of the sword's hilt.

Croot breathed quietly and waited for Bender and Joffo to make their move. "Bad Magic. Bad Magic. That's Amago. Let'em be. Leggo fellas." came Joffo's low but clearly worried voice. The half-breed still stood squarely facing Jenner and did not even twitch in acknowledgement of Joffo. Croot was momentarily stunned by Joffo's words.

Bender began moving into sight and away, back down the alley. Joffo quickly followed without uttering a word. Looking this way and then that way, and appearing very confused, Jenner began backing away too with words tumbling from his mouth, "Me sorry, me sorry."

Croot's emotions flashed first to anger at his mates, then to excitement as he realized he would have all the loot for himself. And he would get to leave a greenskin half-breed's entrails on the ground for it. He moved like lightning from behind the crate and thrust his dirk into the side of the half-orc. But, Croot's knife glanced off the buckle of the half-breed's bandolier, still finding flesh, but sapped of its lethality.

Fluidly and without hesitation, the half-orc shifted his weight and turned, the curved blade held in his right slashed across his body toward Croot as he drew his left hand back and into the air. For an instant, Croot could clearly see the half-breed's face. A face that marked the half-breed as little more than a boy with a sword in his right hand. A boy that Croot too late realized wielded fire in his other as a crimson stream flowed from the boy's free hand engulfing Croot and setting the would-be murderer ablaze before continuing on past and setting the warehouse wall ablaze too. Just as swiftly, the boy whipped his hand back, drawing a rope of flame from Croot and immolating himself with it.

Croot fled without looking back, running as he had only once before, and the fires continued to melt into his skin. While watching Croot flee, the half-orc pointed his blade at the flaming wall of the warehouse and then up into the sky. A ribbon of flame from the wall followed along, streaming high into the night air before extinguishing itself and leaving behind an intact but still smoldering structure. Amago held Bad magic, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2 Northern Sojourn scene 2

Jun Jie sat impatiently at his table with a cup of tea in one hand. He was a short Tian from Hongal with dark almond shaped eyes and long, straight black hair kept under a broad cap. He typically came no farther south than Karlsgard after crossing the Wall of Heaven, but a rich lord had requested he journey to Riddleport and seek artifacts for purchase from the Cypher Mages who studied there. Nothing magical requested, just curiosities for the wealthy collector. Now, his business had been concluded and he was hoping to improve upon his traveling protection. Looking over the pair of guards seated with him, he decided they were neither trustworthy nor capable of properly defending his caravan if trouble developed. Better protection would be waiting in Karlsgard if he could only reach there safely. However, he had already spoken to four individuals and turned them down as it was clear they were cutthroats. Jun Jie looked at the tea in his cup and sighed, irritated by the noise and rabble he was forced to put up with on this side of the Wall.

There was a stir at the door and an unusual sight struck Jun Jie. A tall, long-limbed half-orc strode into the tavern. He wore a heavy red tunic with a bandolier across his chest and had the most unnervingly young looking face beneath his broad rimmed, bowl-shaped jingasa. But, the youthfulness of his appearance was not what struck Jun Jie so strongly. The half-orc wore a katana at his side! And, it appeared that his jingasa had some form of red emblem, a mon, that Jun Jie could not fully make out. Jun Jie's thoughts raced... _Each of those would mark him as a nobleman over the Wall, but what would they mean here on a half-orc?_

Jun Jie's thoughts were interrupted as the gaze of the half-orc caught his. He quickly struggled to avert his gaze downward but was transfixed by the strength held in the purple eyes of the half-breed. Those purple eyes marked him as having strong Azlanti ancestry. The half-orc strode briskly over to Jun Jie's table and ignored the guards as they smirked, dismissing him for his age. "I expect that you are the trader, Jun Jie?" spoke the half-orc in the common tongue with an unforced deep voice that belied how young he appeared. Jun Jie nodded. Then, the half-orc continued, "You may refer to me as Amago."

Jun Jie hesitated, unsure as how to act, before speaking. "Thank you,...master Amago," he struggled unsure of how to respond. "I had made arrangements with a business acquaintance to meet some here who might wish to travel as an escort for me to Karlsgard."

"I will travel with you to Karlsgard," came the firm reply from the half-orc. Jun Jie noted that Amago stated but did not ask.

"Really?" quickly retorted one of the guards. "Who are you that we should just let you tell us what to do?" Jun Jie shifted uncomfortably.

"I need not explain my worth," Amago stated calmly as he looked squarely into Jun Jie's eyes.

The guard stiffened and another may have assumed Amago was speaking to him but Jun Jie knew otherwise. His guard did not warrant recognition of any sort in Amago's eyes. "Thank you, master Amago. Your protection is most appreciated. We will be leaving from the Devil's Fork garrison at sunrise if that is acceptable to you."

Amago nodded.

The guards seemed taken aback at Jun Jie's actions but he did not stop there. Jun Jie was a trader and the potential for a deal or contact or buyer always warmed his blood. He knew that half-orcs often knew little and cared less of their ancestral heritage but the katana told him this half-orc may feel differently regarding his heritage. As Amago turned away, Jun Jie continued "I do not mean to pry, but I believe I may have had dealings with a member of your family..."

Amago stopped and spun around with a quickness that made the guards stiffen and then said a single word. "Continue."

Nobleman or not, clearly this half-orc knew little of his ancestry and wished to learn of it thought Jun Jie before continuing. Slowly and hoping to choose his words correctly, he stated "There is a young woman named Mendarra who has your...mixed ancestry. By itself, that would mean little in this settlement, but her eyes are a striking purple, marking her of Azlanti ancestry." Seeing he apparently had Amago's interest, the trader continued, "When seeing you tonight, your eyes were so strikingly similar I thought perhaps you were kin but I did not wish to presume."

"Where might I find this...Mendarra?" spoke the half-orc in a commanding voice that made thought of his youthful appearance melt away from Jun Jie's mind.

Unable to hold back speaking due to the command in Amago's voice, Jun Jie quickly answered. "She resides at the Cypher Lodge."

"Thank you, trader," Amago flatly spoke and turned toward the door. As Amago turned and left, Jun Jie noticed what appeared to be fiery feathered wings serving as the mon on the jingasa atop the half-orc's head. He gave a sigh of relief and noticed his guards looking at him askance before once again realizing how loud the establishment remained. Then, he grew worried as he realized that in his haste to answer where Amago could find Mendarra, he had forgotten to mention she was a priestess. That may make this Amago feel ill toward him. Jun Jie sipped his tea and frowned.


	3. Chapter 3 Northern Sojourn scene 3

Amago walked up the steps to the middle wing of the Cypher Lodge. Here dwelled the Order of Cyphers, magi and scholars from around Avistan who came to study the massive Cypher Gate and to study the runes etched upon its surface for whatever secrets they could coax from them. Riddleport, the City of Cyphers, had gained its name from the mystery they represented and its nickname from the runes themselves.

Amago stopped and looked back over his shoulder. The great Cypher Gate loomed over him and the small hill he stood upon. It was a great arch three hundred fifty feet in height and it spanned seven hundred feet across the harbor. The gate's surface, littered with the runes and symbols that were its namesake, had survived the weathering of a hundred centuries with nary a scratch. It was a testament to the skill and ingenuity of the Thassilonian craftsmen and mages who had constructed it. Thassilonians who carried the same strong Azlanti blood as he. Amago looked at how the Moon shone beautifully down upon it and pondered that although the mighty nation of his human ancestors had perished so long ago, the Sun and Moon, Shizuru and Tsukiyo, still looked down upon the world just as they had when the gate itself was constructed.

Amago had spent considerable time studying the works of his ancestors in Magnimar and yet he had never set foot inside the Cypher Lodge, nor had he met any with whom he shared blood. This is what gave him pause as he stood on the steps of the entrance to the Cypher Lodge. Taking a deep breath, he turned back around and stoically marched into the building.

Amago came to a stop immediately upon stepping through the doorway. He was standing face to face with a tall, long-limbed half-orc woman who had herself just stepped up toward the doorway from within. She was wearing a tan leather skirt that came down to her knees with a heavy sheathed blade on her hip and a sleeveless wool tunic for a top. Over her shoulder was slung a pole with some sort of bag tied to the end of it. Contrasting with her green skin, on each muscular arm she bore a great tattoo of a red feathered wing that trailed into what was assuredly a larger tattoo concealed on her back. She had long, black hair fashioned into numerous braids. But Amago noticed all of this on the periphery, as his gaze was fixated on the deep purple eyes staring back into his own.

The woman took a half-step back and looked at him sideways for a moment as he stood there. "Well?" came the single word from her mouth that broke the silence.

Quickly regaining his composure, Amago responded. "I was told there would be a half-orc woman here named Mendarra and that she bore the eye color of the Azlanti."

"Is that so? Let me know when you find her," she swiftly responded with a smirk.

Perplexed, Amago paused for a moment before speaking. "Is there another half-orc woman with purple eyes who resides here?"

"No," she snapped back, her face still obviously smirking.

A frown grew upon his face as realization that he was being toyed with dawned upon Amago. He stood taller and firmly asked, "Are you Mendarra?"

Again, she swiftly responded. This time with a smile upon her face. "Yes, my name is Mendarra. Who might you be?"

Losing patience, he quickly answered, "You may refer to me as Amago."

The smile quickly dropped from her face and was replaced with a frown. "I did not ask how I may refer to you. I asked who you are. My ancestors speak to me on the wind and they told me you would be coming and that you are family, if but a distant relation. They did not tell me you would rudely address me as a servant rather than blood kin. Now, I ask again for you to tell me who you are."

Amago stood frozen for a moment. The spirits spoke to her on the wind. That would make her a priestess as well as family. Priestesses would say what they wished, when they wished. So, he answered her as truthfully as he knew how to. "Hideki is the name given to me by my adoptive mother, mistress Nakamura." With that, he lowered his head.

"It appears she has raised a strong boy...even if his manners are lacking," she said, emphasizing 'boy' with a small laugh and to his displeasure. "Shall we leave? I do not plan to return."

"Mendarra, I have been looking for you. You must finish your transcriptions before leaving this evening...and there are other transcriptions that will be required of you," came a nasal voice from over her shoulder.

The source of that nasally voice was a thin man wearing dark robes. Always ready, Amago had seen his approach and after surmising he was one of the lodge's renowned Cypher Mages, taken his sword hilt in preparation for drawing. However, he awaited Mendarra's response.

"Edmund, I have meticulously kept track of my work since I arrived here six years ago as but a woman fourteen years of age. The spirits kept me informed each and every time which I was short changed on my payments," she said pausing, and stepped to the side. Amago filled the opening by stepping forward and putting him within arm's length of the Cypher Mage. Then, she continued, "The value of my unfinished work can be subtracted from the value I am still owed. I helped myself to a portion of that just prior and left a note in my room with the remaining value I am owed. But, I am generous. Consider that debt settled."

Unafraid, the man continued in his nasal voice, "Mendarra, I forbid you to leave."

Amago saw the anger flash in her eyes and started to move but she was faster. With unnerving speed she grabbed the robes at his chest and said, "You will forbid me nothing, Edmund." and just as quickly stepped away as a look of fear grew in his eyes.

Amago immediately moved into the position she had vacated and simultaneously drew his katana with fluid grace, holding it to the mage's throat and pinning him against the wall. "Do not presume to order priestess Mendarra about. Your continued life depends upon you not doing so." Amago noticed over his shoulder that Mendarra had drawn her heavy blade, a falchion, and was wielding it with both hands, a fire burning in her eyes. Her pole with a bag tied to its end lay on the floor.

"Please don't hurt me," came his nasal cry as he began to shake. Drips on the floor told Amago that Edmund had wet himself. In disgust, Amago turned his back to the mage and began walking out the door, side by side with Mendarra.

"City boys are soft," she said with a laugh. "I was raised with the tribe," she said and then paused. "We will gather the rest of your gear at your room and ride your horse to Silk Street and sleep there. It is a stone's throw from the Devil's Fork."

Amago sighed. Priestesses always seemed to know everything. Staying the night next to the Devil's Fork was a good thing as late in the night it already was, but he knew Boss Croat's compound was located on Silk Street and was not partial to the thought of spending the night surrounded by his gangs.

Then, Mendarra broke into a run. Amago finally caught up to her after she settled into a steady pace. Apparently, she knew a lot of things, including where to find the inn he was staying.


	4. Chapter 4 Northern Sojourn scene 4

Amago rode upon Keppan's back with Mendarra holding to his. The large bay stallion was a chestnut color with a black mane and black "stockings" beneath its knees. Keppan's body was built for war and the weight of both riders was easily handled. The pair had ridden north through Riddleport after running to Amago's inn and collecting the remainder of his gear. After so much travel and so many events, the night had progressed far enough that it could no longer truly be considered evening and now demanded to be considered early morning.

Here, Silk Street held no oil lamps, but Amago was a half-orc and his nightvision discerned figures in the darkness. He brought Keppan to a halt and the temperamental warhorse snorted in protest. Mendarra sat patiently behind Amago and said nothing. The figures were slowly moving into positions around the riders. A couple appeared to be carrying clubs and a couple more with maces and at least one had a pick. All were half-orcs and could see in the darkness as well as Amago and Mendarra. This part of Riddleport was controlled by Boss Croat, a remarkably fat, but still dangerous half-orc who owned the streets of northern Riddleport and these were his men. Their numbers began to increase as they continued to emerge from various hovels and they all appeared armed and ready for blood. _Bow or spear or sword? Sword,_ came the unbidden answer to the question in Amago's mind. He prepared to draw and the tension was palpable.

Mendarra hopped off the back of Keppan and spoke up. "Nishtruk! Good to see you again," she said and raised her arms, showing her tattooed feathered wings for all to see.

"Mendarra! Yer back!" exclaimed one of the half-orcs which Amago presumed to be Nishtruk. The tension noticeably relaxed at his words as the enforcers noticed who Mendarra was. He gave Mendarra a hearty hug, then looked to Amago and said, "Dis yer boy? Ya gotta son? Must be yer son. He looks too young fer you an him to be..."

Noticing Amago stiffening at the insult to him regarding his age, Mendarra quickly interrupted Nishtruk. "He is not my son, but he is family. You may refer to him as Amago," she continued using the exact same terminology by which Amago had introduced himself to her earlier.

While puzzling over her introducing him with the deliberate use of the same wording she had earlier scolded him for using, Amago noticed a similarity shared by many of the half-orcs, including Nishtruk. They all had the red feathered wings tattooed upon their arms and extending to their backs. One of them, a true brute of a man with huge tusks protruding from his lower jaw, had come to join the anticipated trouble without bothering to don a shirt. When the brute turned around, Amago could see that the wings led to the body of a great red eagle upon his back. He considered the possibility this was some form of tribal markings they bore, and that reminded him of the words Mendarra had spoken earlier. _City boys are soft. I was raised with the tribe._ He quickly concluded, away from their roots and in a city of men, these warriors in exile would value this priestess from their tribe who would give them guidance and healing. And, he remembered the words of mistress Nakamura, the Shizuru priestess who had raised him as her own son. _Fire fills your heart but the eagle is your spirit. Embrace both._ He had always tried to meet her expectations and chose to live nobly as he saw the eagle lived, but now he saw these tattooed eagles were his extended family. Members of an orc tribe. Though he had known this would be true, he had never before cared to venture down that line of thought.

But, Amago was not one to sit idly and think. He smoothly dismounted Keppan and walked toward Mendarra and Nishtruk. Unbidden, Keppan followed behind him. Amago's eyes met those of Nishtruk. Surprise came into Nishtruk's eyes as he was finally able to discern the coloration of Amago's eyes. Amago came to a stop and nodded recognition at Nishtruk who nodded back. The smell of liquor wafted over to Amago from Nishtruk.

"Amago, after putting away Keppan, would you go inside with Nishtruk and make yourself at ease? I have matters to attend to with Boss Croat," Mendarra firmly asked in a manner that did not seem to be asking. Concealing his anger at being treated like a boy, Amago curtly nodded. With that, Mendarra smiled, flashing her diminutive tusks for the first time and turned away.

"Don' worry bout dat. She talks to everone dat way...an we listen," Nishtruk said with a laugh. "Put yer horse away, din come on in. We cookin sumpin, don't know whut. You eat wit us." Nishtruk turned and walked toward a shanty without saying anything else.

Amago methodically tended to Keppan, quickly removing the tack, then brushing him vigorously, before finally checking his shoes. With that, he picked up the tack as well as his spear, carrying it all with him and headed toward Nishtruk's shanty. The smell of something awful being cooked came through the doorway which had a blanket hanging over it. Amago had assumed Nishtruk to be jesting when he said he did not know what was cooking but now Amago was not so sure. "This is Amago. I am here," he said flatly, knowing that walking in unannounced upon a houseful of cutthroats would not end well.

"Come on in," came Nishtruk's voice. As Amago entered, Nishtruk continued, "Wese watchin through da wall an bettin yous jus walk rat in cuz yous so young and were waitin fer some fun. But, you didn't," he finished, sounding somewhat sad and more than a little drunk. Amago just nodded at the roughians, four of them in a tiny one room shanty, then set down the saddle. He placed his bow, quiver, and spear down, but kept his katana. Amago's wakizashi was kept on his person too. The shorter blade would be much more useful in such close quarters but his magic flowed from him and into his katana like water. He was bound to it and it to him. Amago removed his jingasa and slipped his feet out of his low-cut boots, then effortlessly lowered himself into a kneeling position with his knees apart and sat upright, relaxed.

Nishtruk watched him for a moment, very confused by Amago's manners, and then said, "Eat sumpin!" He pointed to a bowl and the pot hanging over a small fire. Amago noted that the fire was an accident waiting to happen in this wooden shanty that had blankets hanging throughout. Noticing the metal dipping spoon was resting in the fire and glowing red, Amago realized they were insisting upon repeatedly jesting and playing with him. The four watched expectantly as Amago reached for the spoon and then their gazes changed from anticipation to confusion as he calmly dipped the soup into his bowl using the red hot spoon. He then placed the spoon back in the fire and grabbed a piece of stale bread.

One of the others, all of whom had the red feathered wing tattoos on their arms, reached and took of hold of the spoon, then cried out in pain and dropped it. The other three broke out in laughter. Nishtruk quickly added, "You stupid, Gronk."

"If I'm stupid, din he stupid too," retorted Gronk, pointing at Amago.

The others all laughed and Nishtruk spoke up. "No. If he got burned, he be stupid. You got burned. You stupid." Gronk looked angry and Amago thought perhaps fisticuffs, or worse, would erupt but Nishtruk handed him a flask and he quickly downed it, anger drowned in liquor. The downing of the contents was followed by a great belch. The four of them were already well on the way to being in a drunken stupor.

"Ya look like a little rich boy, " said Nishtruk to Amago. "Well, ya not so little," he laughed. "How da eats?"

"I've had better but I've also had worse," Amago quickly replied. "I've spent the last six years traveling up and down the coast with a friend of mine, a thief-taker named Stanton Scrivener." Seeing he had whatever was left of their attention, he continued, "On the road, day after day, when forced to leave town without packing food while the trail was still hot, meant one eating whatever we could eat. I have done so many times." The four cutthroats were quiet, contemplating if Amago traveling with a thief-taker meant he were one too.

"Ya been goin' up and down da coast fer six years? Ya can only be thirteen or fourteen years old. Dat means youd've started when yer..." Nishtruk looked at his two hands and began folding fingers down. He paused, apparently confused by his own fingers and then held up one hand with all five fingers extended and said, "Five, five years old when ya started."

"I have twenty four years of age."

"Dat's it. Yer young, ya can't be dat old. You've done it. Lyin' to me," he said and paused. "If ya dat old, let's go at it," Nishtruk said. He stood up and wobbled, raising fists the size of hams. The others appeared excited and coming out of their stupors with the prospect of a fight.

Amago grimaced, then quickly responded, "You challenged me. I set the terms. One swing each. A contest to see who can hit the other the softest." Nishtruk, drunk as he was, scrunched his face while attempting to grasp this turn of events. "As I set the terms, I give you the honor of going first."

The others began clamoring over the excitement of Amago giving Nishtruk the opportunity to swing first in a fight and he could not refuse. Amago stood and patiently waited. Nishtruk continued to grimace, trying to figure out how to hit Amago as softly as he could. Finally he swung away and pulled up so short he missed completely. After regaining his balance, he said, "Bet ya can't beat that."

"I most assuredly can beat that," Amago replied. "I will wager one of my gold to five of your copper that I can." All of the others grew quiet and looked on in excitement. Nishtruk nodded.

Amago drew back his fist and haymakered Nishtruk in the eye. To Amago's surprise, Nishtruk stood there and blinked at him. But, that lasted for only a moment, then Nishtruk crashed onto his back. After a moment of silence, the other three broke out laughing.

Suddenly, Nishtruk sat upright with an angry look and Amago feared he may have gone too far and started something he would dishonor himself by ending. Then, Nishtruk fell backward to the floor again and laughed. "Did I win?" Everybody, including Amago laughed. For good measure, Amago took out a gold coin from his pouch and tossed it onto Nishtruk's stomach. "I tink I jus' go sleep here." Nishtruk said, then closed his eyes. Like a contagion, the other three closed their eyes too in a matter of moments.

Amago sighed and prepared to stretch out, but then Mendarra quietly slipped in through the blanket over the doorway. "Sleep. We are safe here," she whispered to Amago who answered her proclamation with a look of doubt. She smirked and continued, "The tribe trades the services of many of our warriors for food and weapons and...other things. City folk are soft but Boss Croat is smart. He appreciates having warriors raised in the tribe running his streets. He will not allow that to be jeopardized."

Amago saw the wisdom in her words but those words also brought forth questions. "Tell me of your tribe."

"We are the Blood Eagles, but it is too late for you to demand explanations from me. Now sleep." With that, she lay down and closed her eyes. Amago did as he was told.


	5. Chapter 5 Northern Sojourn scene 5

Although Shizuru herself had not yet crested the eastern skyline of Riddleport, there was already enough light to allow Jun Jie to look over his caravan as well as the ceremony before him. The caravan consisted of seven wagons lined in a row, each pulled by two mules and with two drivers, one of which was Jun Jie. They were laden with an assortment of goods he would trade on the way to Karlsgard and furs he would trade across the Wall as well as foodstuffs that would be needed for that long journey. His two guards each sat impatiently upon their horses beside his wagon, not wishing to wait any longer as there was already enough light to travel by. Amago kneeled on a small blanket, facing the east with his eyes closed, awaiting Shizuru to rise above the walls of the Devil's Fork garrison. Jun Jie dared not interrupt him or ask that he hurry. Keppan, Amago's sturdy warhorse, waited indifferently for its master. The other half-orc, the priestess named Mendarra, watched him thoughtfully and had a pole slung over her shoulder with a sack tied to the end of it.

"Let's get on with this," grumbled one of the guards. Jun Jie gave him a stare that silenced him from further interruption.

Minutes passed. Guards came and went from the garrison and travelers passed by on the road. Finally, Shizuru rose above the Devil's Fork garrison and began to shine upon the caravan. Amago hopped up to a crouch on the balls of his feet, then began to roll up the blanket he had been kneeling upon. He then stood, nodded at Jun Jie, and strode over to Keppan where he began to arrange his gear for the journey. Amago had donned a leather harness in place of the bandolier he had worn the night before and he placed a small banner into the back of it, along with his bow and quiver. After doing so, he nimbly mounted Keppan and began to move ahead of the caravan. The outstretched wings of a red flaming eagle flew over his head on a white field.

"That's it? We sit around til the sun shines on his face and then he gets up and we leave?" asked the second guard incredulously of Jun Jie.

"Yes," replied Jun Jie. With that, he snapped the reins and the mules began to draw his wagon forward. Jun Jie took note that the other drivers followed suit and their wagons began to move as well. He also noticed that the priestess, traveling on foot, loped to the head of the file to be alongside Amago.

"Have I told you yet that you act funny?" Mendarra laughed to Amago as she lightly tread upon the ground. Her gait made it clear she was capable of marching for days with little wear. He looked down at her from his mount, and the fatigue was readily apparent on his face. She realized his day had been long and tiring before he had ever set foot into the Cypher Lodge. He turned back forward and focused on the task at hand as the caravan began to exit the city of Riddleport and head north to the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Mendarra thoughtfully trotted beside him in silence as the caravan followed.


End file.
